Something Beautiful
by PerfectMoments
Summary: When John is kidnapped and tortured by Moriarty, what will happen when he finds out he's... Pregnant! MPREG! IMPLIED RAPE! Don't like, Don't read!
1. The Rescue

**Prologue**

Two weeks.  
Two weeks spend in this filthy room where Moriarty and his men had violated me.  
Raped me. Stripped me of any pride I had left, and all I could think now was '_When is my body going to finally give up_?'  
Footsteps. Footsteps approaching the door to the room where I lay on a bed smothered in my own blood, sweat and tears, along with some other things left behind from Jim, but those are better to be left unsaid. The door swung open, a tall figure standing in the door frame, the light rushing in around his body," Just let me die already!" I screamed, my head and heart heavy with exhaustion and drugs, particularly Rohypnol. I shrunk around the sheets on the bed, with my hands being cuffed to the bed frame, I had to use my legs to cover what I could of my abused body.  
But the response I got wasn't 'Oh John, but I thought you liked it!', it was a sob. A single, heartbroken sob. The figure rushed towards me, and it was when I saw his face I knew that my torture was over.  
"Sherlock", I gasped.  
For the first time since he had faked his death I allowed myself to cry. He un-cuffed me and fetched a clean sheet from the linen closet across the room, wrapping me up in it and scooping my thin frame in his arms. He carried me out of the room and down the stairs. I looked over his shoulder at my room and saw the evidence of my suffering practically painted on the bed and the floors. I looked away and allowed myself to succumb to the exhaustion that had been looming over me for so long.  
I heard the shocked gasps of Lestrade and Donovan at seeing me in is state. I pressed my face into Sherlocks' chest, listening only to his heartbeat, ignoring the ambulance and police lights, the shouting voices, and the cold hands of the paramedics. His heartbeat lulled me to sleep.  
_Bum bum, bum bum, bum bum, bum bum, bum bum..._

* * *

My eyes slowly opened in room 410 in Harold Wood Hospital, the beeping machines and the sting of the I.V drip helping with the process of opening my eyes and viewing my surroundings.  
The room was a good size. A bathroom to the right of the bed and a hot cup of tea on the side table next the couch on the opposite side of the room, alerting me that Sherlock was still around. I sat up and saw my wounds clearly for the first time. It wasn't just Moriarty who hurt me. After he had finished with me, he let his men do whatever they wanted. They burned both of my thighs with boiling water and gave me multiple cuts and welts on my arms, chest and face. I could feel bandages where stitches had been inserted to help my wounds heal, and the cooling pad placed on the bed to help with the pain of the burns.  
As I was about to press the call button, Sherlock walked into the room. His hair was scruffy and unkept, nothing new, except he had a terrifyingly worried expression on his face," John! How are you feeling?" he asked, setting down his notepad on the couch and taking a seat in the chair next to my bed," Great, considering the circumstances." I said, adjusting my position in the bed and hissing when the burns on my thighs rubbed against the fabric of the hospital bed," Do, uh, do you... need anything?" Sherlock asked, his big green eyes never leaving me," Some water would be great, thank you." John said, relaxing once more in the bed.  
As Sherlock went out to get some water, a nurse entered my room with a clip board. He had a kid expression on his face," Its good to see you awake, !" he exclaimed," I'm your nurse, Benjamin, but please call mr Ben." he said as he took a seat in the chair next to my bed," I'm afraid we're going to have to go over what happened to you. Is now an okay time, or would you want to discuss this later?" he asked," Now is fine." I replied," Im going to skip all of the sweet stuff and get right down to business. You are suffering from severe dehydration and famine, you have second degree burns on both thighs, you have multiple lacerations on your back, a broken left wrist, and anal tearing. We got you stitched up and taken care of for the most part, but your body has been violently rejecting food and fluid. We tried a different solution that hasn't failed on patients that come in with your situation, but it hasn't quite seemed to work it's magic on you."  
Ben stood up and fetched an ultra-sound from the hall," Would you mind if I took a peek inside of you?"  
I already knew the drill. Lie flat, shirt up, and 'it's going to be cold!'. I heard the door open and Sherlock. Re-enter the room, setting my cup of water on the bedside table. He brought another chair to the bed and sat down, his eyes and face looking much more exhausted than usual.  
"Well, everything seems norm-" Ben stopped," What?" I said. I saw Sherlocks jaw drop and his eyes become as round as saucers," What?!" I demanded," , I believe you're pregnant."


	2. The First Step

I lost it.  
"No!" I screeched, forcing myself to sit up in the bed. I yanked the I.V from my arm and thrashed in the hold of Ben and Sherlock. This couldn't be happening, not to me. Then Sherlock did something he never did for anyone.  
He wrapped his thin arms around me and held me. He let me cry on his shoulder.  
Literally.  
Ben turned off the machine and left, leaving us to our thoughts. "Abortion." I said," I want it out of me!" I yelled, tears flowing freely down my red cheeks," John, wait, think about this-" "I don't have to!" I roared," Its... Its his!" Sherlock raised up the knack on the hospital bed using the remote and sat next to me, his hand clenched around my arm," But it's yours too!" he said," I will support you in mod any situation you make, but not this one." he said," You can put it up for adoption after it's born if you want too, but don't get an abortion." Sherlock pleaded," Why do you care?" I asked.  
" Because believe it or not, I was actually in a relationship with a girl once!" Sherlock said, standing up and facing the other wall," Catlin O'Connor. The prettiest Irish girl you could ever lay eyes on. We fell in love in our senior year of high school, and things happened. She ended up expecting my baby." he said, sitting down in the chair again, facing me with tears in his eyes," She was going to keep it. We were going to start a family together, but..." Sherlock paused, gathering his thoughts," Five months in, she got an abortion and moved away. She killed our daughter, John. I never saw her again." he said. I could only sit there and process what I had just heard.  
Sherlock. Girl. Baby. Abortion. Weakness.  
"Adoption." I said," Adoption is the best solution." Sherlock looked at me," Thank you." he said, and sat back, his hands on his head, breathing sighs of releif,  
"Thank You."

* * *

"Are you sure you can carry that, John?" Sherlock asked as I hauled my hospital pack up the stairs,"I'm fine, Sherlock!" I huffed," the sooner we get upstairs, the better!"  
Sherlock unlocked the door and stepped aside, allowing me to enter first. The flat was a mess, as usual, and-"Christ! What the bloody he'll is that stench coming from!" I said, storming into the kitchen. Everything looked the same as it had when I left three weeks ago.  
But then I opened the fridge.  
"Im calling the appliance store, we're getting a new fridge!" I announced," Its the symptoms, John." Sherlock said," Of course it is, but that doesn't change the fact that it smells like a morgue in here!" I turned around to find Sherlock standing in the doorway," Of course." he said, a big grin plastered on his face.  
Then the nausea came.  
I clapped my hand over my mouth and rushed into the bathroom, the toilet seat was already open. I threw myself over the bowl and retched my breakfast into it. I felt gentle rubbing on my back as I vomited, Sherlocks deep voice speaking in a calming tone," Why the hell is it called morning sickness? It comes up all damn day every damn day!" I said, wiping my mouth with some toilet paper," Male doctors, I suppose." Sherlock said jokingly.  
I shuffled into my bedroom and closed the door after Sherlock made sure that I hadn't fallen on the floor or something. After I was sure he wasn't near, I lifted up my shirt to see the ever so slight bump beginning to form in my middle. I placed my hand over it. And everything became real.  
I was really pregnant.  
But it wasn't a partner or anything who was pregnant. It was me in my own male flesh. This baby would be different, that I knew, but this baby also wasn't made out of love. It was made out of a filthy lust and hunger for satisfaction. Not mine either.  
For the first time since the incident, I let myself cry. I sobbed long and hard into my pillow, and eventually drifted off to sleep.

Later in the afternoon, I woke up to the smell of freshly brewed tea and a huge wave of nausea. I rushed into the bathroom and vomited fluids.  
Sherlock was rubbing circles on my back soon after i had reached the toilet bowl, murmuring softly. " Where did you learn to do that?" I asked him, " Catlin got morning sick all of the time, and she said that it helped her, so I just... I just thought..." "It does." I said," Thank you, Sherlock."  
I sipped on some weak tea and typed on my computer for a bit, often glancing over at Sherlock in the kitchen bent over his microscope identifying traces of chemicals for a new case that Lestrade put in front of him.  
The day passed quickly, ending with a rare session of Doctor Who (another thing for Sherlock to predict) and separating into our bedrooms.  
"Im sorry this happened to you, John." Sherlock said from his doorway," If there is anything you need to talk about, just know that I'm willing to listen. I won't be much help with the whole talking portion, but I would be more than happy to listen to anything you need to get off of your chest."  
I nodded," You know Sherlock, you really can be humane sometimes." I said," I guess so." He replied, disappearing into his bedroom.


	3. Heartbeat

The next 20 days went by mostly the same.  
Nausea, puking, sleeping, eating, and repeat. Not to mention the god awful hormonal imbalances. One minute I'm perfectly fine and the next minute I'm crying over something I heard about the other day or something I read on the Internet.  
I now understand why women do these things.  
But now it's time for a check-up.  
Sherlock accompanied me back to the Harold Wood Hospital and waited in the seating area while I went in for my appointment.  
"Evening !" Ben said," Im glad to be seeing you again! How have you been?" "Besides being sick all day, I've been fantastic." I said sarcastically. "Yeah, that sickness bites doesn't it? Well enough on that! Let's have a look at that baby of yours!" he said as he brought the ultra sound over to the bed.  
"Can I ask you something?" I said," Ask away." Ben said, squirting the ultrasound jelly over my stomach," Do you think I'm... Odd? You don't seem to act  
Ike you feel awkward around a pregnant man, but I want to know what you really think." Ben flipped the machine on," You're my patient, John. Believe it or not, I do care about your feelings. It's quite fascinating that you came back to me to look after you in your check-ups here. You are a rare one indeed, but you shouldn't be treated any differently that any other pregnant man." He grinned, pressing the transducer to my belly with a slight grin, looking at me with humor in his eyes.  
"Here we are!" he said, closing on a small figure with barely human features, so,ethnic else that looked like a tail, and a long cord protruding from it's center," There is the little one." Ben said. "Oh! I just remembered something!" Ben exclaimed, taking his stethoscope from around his neck.  
He places the cold metal part to my stomach after wiping away some of the ultrasound jelly, and began to move it around my belly, searching for something.  
When he found what he was searching for, his eyes lit up and he pressed on the spot, taking the ear pieces out and offering them to me,"Listen." he said.  
I eagerly pressed the ear buds in my ears, listening intently for whatever Ben was hinting at.  
Then I heard it. It was faint, but I heard it.  
Bum bum, bum bum, bum bum...  
"Heartbeat." I gasped, my mouth gaping with amazement and awe," Thats your baby." Ben said, pointing again to the monitor, the image of the tiny child fixed upon the screen.  
My eyes filled with tears as I listened to the soft heartbeat coming from inside of my body. The human life tucked away in there somehow. For the first time I realized;  
There was a living, forming human being inside of me.  
Of course I knew that it was in there, but it just now became real. I listened for about 10 more minutes before finally surrendering the stethoscope back to Benjamin, who had turned off the screen a little while ago.  
After wishing me well, I was allowed to leave the examination room. I met Sherlock with tears still pouring down my face, unable to stop crying. "John!" Sherlock gasped, throwing down his TIME magazine and rushing over to me," Is everything alright?" he said," I heard her, Sherlock." I sobbed," I heard her heartbeat." "Why a 'her'?" Sherlock asked," Just a feeling." I replied, getting a hold of myself and wiping away my tears.  
We left the hospital (along with the weird stares) and got a cab back home to 221B. I walked in after Sherlock unlocked the door and flopped done onto the couch, eventually falling asleep with my hands over my stomach.

* * *

Today marks the day I become 13 weeks pregnant.  
The second trimester is already starting to warm up to me. My morning sickness has drastically died down, but is not entirely gone yet. I can enjoy 3 meals a day without rushing to the bathroom anymore, and the baby has started to faintly squirm inside of me.  
"John, I need to go to a case. I promise I'll be home before tomorrow." Sherlock called from the kitchen, putting away his microscopes and test tubes," Thats fine." I called from my bedroom.  
I had been hibernating in my bedroom for the past 4 days now, Sherlock having to poke his head in to see if I was actually still there. I spent much of my time on my laptop, updating old blog posts that I had meant to post, but never did. I looked over To my bedside table to make sure my cellular was there.  
It was.  
I heard the door close and Sherlocks footsteps thump down the stairs. I reached over and sipped my tea. Strong and black, just the way it should be.  
I was just finishing up some paperwork when I heard the door creak open. I froze. I slipped my gun from in between my mattress and my bed frame, checking to make sure it was loaded. Footsteps came from the sitting room, and the thud of someone sitting down in a chair was heard as well.  
I put on a jumper to conceal my belly. The bump was somewhat obvious now, and I don't want everyone to know just yet.  
I gently opened my bedroom door and slipped out, avoiding the creaky floorboards and loose tiles in the kitchen.  
I hate intelligent people.  
"Bloody hell, Mycroft!" I shouted when I saw him sitting in Sherlocks chair," You could knock before you enter someones home." "Well it's nice to see you too, John." Mycroft said, a slight grin planted onto his chubby face," taking care, I presume?" I ran my hand through my hair, flabbergasted at Mycrofts' sudden, mostly silent appearance. " Im fine thanks." I snapped, placing my gun on the desk and sitting in my chair," I have noticed some changes in my brothers behavior through surveillance, and wanted to know if he was...up to anything." Mycroft said, crossing his legs in the chair," No Mycroft, Sherlock hasn't been doing any drugs, I promise you." " Then what is going on, exactly. My baby brother has never been this tucked away since he broke his leg when he was 8." I sat down, my face in my hands," John, are you putting in weight?" Mycroft said, looking down at the fabric of my jumper stretched across my belly.  
I wrapped my hands around my middle, shielding my baby from Mycroft's gaze," John, tell me what is going on, or I will find out from someone else!" Mycroft bellowed, looming over me as he spoke," Mycroft!" A sharp voice from the doorway barked.  
Sherlock.  
" Greetings, baby brother. I've just come by for a small chat with John here." Mycroft said, forcing a smile onto his face," Get the hell out!" Sherlock said," Very well." Mycroft said, eyeing Sherlock, then me," I will be seeing you both very soon." and with that, he left.  
Sherlock rushed over to my chair," What did he do?! Did he threaten you? Did he hurt you?" Sherlock asked," Im fine, Sherlock, really. What happened to your case?" "It was easy. It was obviously the husband who murdered her out of fear that she would discover his long list of secret lovers." Sherlock stood and went over to his microscope, resuming his research on god knows what.

**Hello my lovely viewers!**

**I just want to let everyone know that I AM STILL WRITING, it will just be a little while, because I am trying to fit some... other, stuff into this story. So please be patient, and you will be rewarded.**

**Love to you all!**

** -PerfectMoments**


	4. An Unwelcome Visitor

"Sherlock!" I cried from my curled position on my bed, gripping the sheets so tight that my knuckles turn white," John?!" Sherlock called as he came running from the couch. He opened the door to my bedroom, revealing my disheveled state," Oh, John." he said softly, approaching me carefully," He's been kicking my spine for two days straight... I'm in agony!" I cried, tears streaming down my face as I became more and more frustrated at my situation. Sherlock just sat there and rubbed my back, his eyes traveling over my shriveling body several times before speaking," Is there anything I can do for you?" " Could you go get a frying pan and hit me over the head with it until I pass out?" I said with as much sarcasm as I could muster," Are you sure about that John? I mean, I don't think-" "Oh never mind!" I yelled.  
I managed to hoist myself up and ever so slowly make my way to my chair out in the sitting room, a cup of freshly brewed tea already at the side table. " Thank you, Sherlock." I sighed gratefully. Sherlock simply looked my way and smiled, then returned to his work.  
I had just opened the morning paper ( in the late afternoon), when I heard the front door slam open and a screech from , which was quickly muffled. "John! Up, quickly!" Sherlock said, hoisting me from my seat and directing me towards my bedroom," Go, now!" he said. I walked swiftly and silently to my bedroom and closed the door. I heard the click of a gun as the intruder came upstairs.  
"Where is he?" a voice said," Not here." Sherlock said cooly," I don't have time for this, Sherlock. Tell me where he is!"  
And then it hit me. That voice. That sing-song voice that has haunted my head for so long...  
Moriarty  
"He is out of your reach. I sent him away." "Sherlock, you must know by now that I'm not stupid. I know he is here. We can either do this the good way, or you can both do this kicking and screaming."  
There was a long pause. But Sherlock knew what this man was capable of. I heard footsteps slowly march towards my room, pausing outside for a moment, and then the handle turned. I shot over to my chair and cocked my gun, ready to fire,"John, it's me." Sherlocks voice said," Please don't shoot." I threw my gun to the ground and curled my body around my protruding middle, covering the child I have grown to love in spite of how it was created. Sherlock rushed over to me as my breathing started to quicken, as my eyes became as wide as saucers. He crouched down to my level and looked me square in the eye," He will not be able to get to you. I will be between you and him the entire time he is within 100 feet of here, do you understand me?" I nodded and wiped away my tears, strictly reminding myself that Sherlock was here, and that I was a bloody soldier, who got through a war without shedding a single tear. I stood behind him, he took my arm, and we walked out to meet him together.  
He stood there in a black suit and a cherry red tie. His hair slicked back, and his dark, piercing eyes burned into mine, an all too familiar reminder of that night 38 weeks ago. "John!" Moriarty said," it's been..." Moriarty stopped short when he saw the large bump bulging from my core. His eyes stared and his mouth remained slightly ajar for at least a minute before he got a hold of himself and looked at my eyes,"What is this?" he gasped," Like you said before. You're not stupid, figure it out." Sherlock said defensively.  
Moriarty sat down on the couch and beheld the layer of cloth and skin that covered the child growing within me. He sat and stared for a long while before finally speaking again," What is it?" he said," A boy." I replied, my eyes searing into his with all of the hatred in my soul," Are you keeping him?" "The abomination you put inside of me? I don't think so." I said. Sherlock flinched at the comment, his grip tightening on my arm. Moriarty sat and pondered for a moment longer.  
" When is it due?" " November." I stopped," Why the hell do you even care?!" I yelled," Because it's mine too, John!" Moriarty said, standing up and knocking over the coffee table.

_'All of you... mine!' Moriarty said, slinking closer and closer to my shivering form strapped to a bed, my cheeks wet from tears and my body covered in blood and cuts, an obvious sign of my torment. He began kissing my neck, biting my skin and making me bleed. I had given up begging for freedom, my throat was too raw anyways, but I couldn't help but whimper as his mouth moved down my body, over my stomach, and down where only few have been before. "Just kill me already..." I begged him through the rag in my mouth. He just cut and scratched. I couldn't help but scream as he entered me._

I staggered backwards, my flashback all too real. "John!" Sherlock said, taking my head in his hands and forcing my line of focus on him," Where are you?" "Baker Street." I replied," Are you safe?" "Yes." " You are fine, just sit down and keep your focus elsewhere. I am here, and nothing will happen to you or the little one, okay?" I nodded and turned away from Moriarty, closing my eyes and taking deep breaths. Something I often did in Afghanistan.

But I still listened to their conversation.

"Why did you come here anyways?" "I wanted to see my little pet again." Moriarty said in his sing-song voice, not completely hiding the distant sound in his voice as his mind processed everything. I heard a click as Sherlock cocked the gun and shifted his position to face Moriarty," I will call Mycroft if you don't leave here by the count of three." Sherlock said cooly, his phone beeping as he dialed a number," I will leave, but I will be back, Sherlock. I want to see how Moriarty Jr. Turns out." Moriarty said, and he took his leave.

I waited until the door slammed shut downstairs to open my eyes and see Sherlock pacing in front of me," What if he looks like him?" I said, breaking the silence after several moments," What?!" Sherlock said, pausing and standing in front of me," What if the baby looks like him? What if he has his eyes?" Sherlock sat cross legged in front of me and placed his hands on my knees, setting the gun on the floor," But he will also have you. Even if he does have any of Moriartys' features, he will still have some of you, wether it be your attitude or your ridiculous nose, he will have you." he said.  
Sherlock seemed to be gathering himself, and then he finally said," That comment earlier, about the 'abomination' Moriarty put inside of you... Did you really mean that?" he said, looking down at the floor,not wanting to look me in the eye for the fear of my answer. " I was actually going to ask you something about that, Sherlock." I said, putting my hands on his," Would it be okay, if we raised him? If... If we didn't do the adoption?" I said softly," That is the best question you have ever asked, John Watson." he said, his tear stained eyes now locked onto mine," Of course." he said, nodding.  
I allowed him to cry for a while, and when he was about done, I decided to speak," I know how important this is to you, since Catlin, and I want you to be as involved with my sons life as if he were your own. Moriarty may have created him, but he will never be his father." I said," You could have a second chance."  
Sherlock put his hand under my jumper and placed it gently on the skin covering the baby," I will help you protect him, John Watson. I swear it." He said, his head still bowed to the floor from his seated position.

We then decided that it would be best if we went to bed. So he traveled to his room, and I to mine.

_'Daddy!' a small voice shouted. I whirled around to see a small, sandy blonde child with dark blue eyes being whisked away in a cab. 'No!' I screamed, racing after it. As the cab turned the corner, I could see Moriartys evil grin at the wheel, and the tear streaked face of my child in the back seat, pounding on the windows._

"John! " a deep voice called to me, waking me from my dream. My eyes shot open and a blood curdling scream emanated from my chapped lips. Sherlock lifted up the sheets on my bed and placed them over the both of us as he climbed into the bed beside me as I covered my eyes with my hands, sobbing and shaking. He hesitated for a moment, and then he, slowly, wrapped his arms around my waist," Nothing will happen to either of you as long as I am here." he said softly.

That night was my first night with no nightmares in almost six years.


	5. Video Tapes

I jolted awake from a nasty pain shooting up my spine. I gasped and put my hands on my back, rubbing circles near my spine. I looked at the time. 12:00pm... Wow.  
I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and placed my feet on the ground before grasping the bed post and hoisting myself up. I waddled out into the kitchen to see Sherlock bent over his laptop and sipping some tea, his hair ruffled and his purple robe wrinkled from where he was curled on the couch. "Morning." I said, putting the kettle on the stove. Sherlock looked up," Good. I thought you had gone into some kind of hibernation or something." Sherlock said with a grin," Did you sleep okay?" he asked," Fine." I replied, biting my lip as another wave of pain hit my back.  
I turned to fetch the kettle as it whistled from the kitchen, pouring myself a cuppa.  
As I steadily made my way to the living room, a particularly bad wave hit, causing me to gasp and tense.  
It took the feel of burning liquid on my right foot to realize that I had dropped my tea. Sherlocks head snapped up as he heard the glass break. He set down the laptop and came over to me, herding me to my chair," Are you okay?" he said," Oh my god... Is he coming?!" Sherlock asked, his eyes giant white saucers," No, Sherlock. It's those fake contractions. Braxton Hicks, remember?" I said, gingerly dabbing the tea off of my foot. "I'll clean this up and get the first aid kit. Sit here, okay?"he said, hustling off to the kitchen.  
After the tea was cleaned up and my foot was bandaged, Sherlock helped me make my way over to the couch to sit beside him. "I want you to see something." he said, pulling up a video document from a folder in his laptop and clicking play.

It was the face of young, teenage Sherlock.

"The time is 6:47 on January the 21st, 1988." he said. Sherlock was wearing a black jacket and a violet t-shirt. His eyes looked tired but happy. He seemed distant, yet back to earth," said that I should start doing these damn video diaries to track my recovery. So my mother locked me up here until I finished one." he paused, running a hand through his hair. I saw scars traced up and down his wrists from razors and needles, feeding drugs into his blood stream." I'll just start with my day, then. Um, today was the same. I didn't study for SATs, mum yelled at me, Daniel and his group of faggots decided it would be fun to throw me from the rooftop, so now they're at the hospital... And, um..." he paused, sipping from a cup," I've noticed how, um, this girl, Catlin... She's new. Just moved here about two months ago. She seems nice... I, I've just never felt, friendly towards anyone before. Not like this. I must say, she is beautiful. But everyone seems to hate her. I don't know why. Probably because her mother and father passed away not too long ago and she's had to come stay here with some relatives. She's from Belfast, Ireland. She has a strong accent, and a thick head of copper hair. She's embarrassed to talk. People make fun of her voice.  
It's like... They're afraid to be different."  
The video stopped.  
"Who is Dr. Jacobs?" I asked," My therapist. He was an ass." Sherlock said, clicking on the next video.

Sherlock had a black eye, but be had a smile plastered onto his face." It's February. Catlin has become a close friend of mine. I never knew how nice it would be to have someone to sit with me at lunch. Someone to talk to. It feels great, I must say. I think I've even started to develop a... More profound bond with her.  
Daniel tried to..." Sherlock paused," Get his hands on her, yesterday. Ie been suspended from school, and, well, this" he points to his right eye," happened. But I'm glad I did it. She's a beautiful person, and she has started to help me come to my senses. I've stopped cutting, and my cocaine use has gone down to once every two days. She is just so beautiful.  
For the first time in a long time, I'm actually happy."

The next video had a start screen of Sherlock and who I guesses was Catlin. She had a pointed nose and freckles covering her face, neck, and shoulders. She had bright hazel eyes and thin lips that were curled into a smile. Her skin was almost as pale as Sherlocks.  
" April." Sherlock said, not bothering to give any more specifications as to the date or time," And I decided that it was finally time to put Catlin in these videos." he said, wrapping her arms around her shoulders and giving her a soft kiss on her cheek," And now, instead of just being friends, we have decided to become a couple." Sherlock said, looking at Catlin with a shimmer in his eye as the edges of his mouth curled into a smile," He saved me." she said, her strong accent adding to her character." He is my only true friend left." she said, turning and locking eyes with Sherlock," I just wanted to get this done. We are headed out to the cinema. Going to go see 'Rain Man'."  
Sherlock smiled, kissed Catlin on the lips, and shut off the camera.

Another Hicks contraction rippled through my body, and I stood up and walked around for a bit. "There are three more." Sherlock said," Would you like to see them, or would another time be better?" I looked at him," After these fade a little bit, we can finish." I replied.  
After five more minutes of walking and pain, Sherlock came up behind me and rubbed small circles on my lower back, right whee the pain was. My head bowed as relief surged throughout my body, the pain ebbing away, " Thanks." I said, resuming my position on the couch.  
Sherlock pressed play on the third video.  
Young Sherlock was no longer sitting in the chair in front of the computer, but he was sitting on his bed, which was still in view of the camera.  
" This video is by choice. Its August. And..." Sherlock took a long moment," Catlin just found out that she was pregnant. With my child."  
Young Sherlock then stood, wrapped the long blue robe around his thin body, and sat at the computer," I don't know what to do. I'm not fit to be a father. I can't raise a child. I can barely take care of myself!" Young Sherlock brought his knees up to his chin and sat that way on the chair for several moments," Catlins family threw her out. She just called and told me. She's coming to stay here. And damn my brother, damn my parents, damn Catlins parents!" YOung Sherlock shouted, storming around his room.  
Then he stopped in front of a drawer.  
After pulling out several pairs of socks, pants, and a tie or two, he pulled out a small blue box.  
He then sat in front of the screen and took out a needle, a long slip of rubber, and a bottle. He filled the needle, tied the rubber slip around his arm, and stuck the needle in his forearm.  
Sighing, he put the needle back and returned the box to its former place. He then passed out on the bed, forgetting to turn off the camera and leaving the rubber slip tied around his arm.  
He then got up and put the rubber slip away along with everything he got out of the drawer.  
Then, three soft raps on the door alerted Sherlock.  
He opened the door to reveal Catlin with a duffel bag sitting next to her on the ground," I'm sorry!" she wailed," I'm so sorry!"  
Sherlock wrapped his arms around her and let her cry," We can figure this out." he said," it's all going to be fine." I could see from the camera that they both had one hand pressed on Catlins belly, and the other wrapped around the other person. Sherlock pulled back and wiped her hair back, revealing a cut on her forehead," Who did this?" Sherlock said," My brother." she said softly, sitting down in a chair.  
Sherlock then looked over to the computer and, realizing that he had left the camera rolling, he got up and shut it off.

I was speechless. Everything that had just happened, what Sherlock went through, was almost unbearable.

The next to last video started to play.

" Its December!" Young Sherlock said. His room now had a mattress on the floor, although it hadn't been touched, while Sherlocks bed was messy and unmade," We just got back from a trip from the doctor. We are expecting a little girl." Sherlock said, wiping tears from his eyes," We have started looking for stuff for our little girl. Cribs and stuff. I don't really enjoy the shopping, but Catlin loves it."  
Sherlock spun around in his chair," I think we're going to be great parents."  
And, scene!

" We were happy for a while." Sherlock said while he was going to the last video," She got really excited for the arrival of the baby, and when she got four months along, she started to become really depressed. She started yelling, having night terrors, and she eventually stopped talking to me." Sherlock said, opening the file," This is what happened after she left."

The face of Young Sherlock was ghostly. His hair was sticking every way possible, he looked skinnier, if that was possible, and he had dark purple hollows beneath his eyes. He held a letter," Sherlock," he began," I'm leaving you and this life. It reminds me too much of what has happened in the November I moved to this retched place. I regret everything. You, me, little Anna. All of it.  
So I got an abortion.  
I got rid of her. It's done. I forged your signature on the paper and got the procedure. Anna is gone.  
By the time you are reading this letter, I will be in America, starting my life over and away from you. Goodbye forever, Catlin O'Connor"  
Sherlock put down the letter and slammed a fist on the desk," I'm just... Done. I'm so done with everything. With Catlin. With school." he paused, facing the camera," With life."  
Then the camera turned off.  
By the time Young Sherlock had finished reading the letter, my eyes were filled with tears. Sherlock turned to face me, shutting the laptop. When he saw the hurt that I was feeling, he wrapped his arms around me and held me until I was able to calm myself.  
"I'm so sorry." I tried to say, but it only came out as a loud whisper. Sherlocks grip tightened onto me. "John Watson," he began," I wanted you to see my past so you understood me that much more, but there is something I would like to ask of you." he said, helping me sit back up," Would you allow me to love you with all of my heart, John? Would you allow me to support you and care for you and lay beside you as you slept?"  
I said nothing.  
I looked deep into his eyes and I saw his fear and his hope all jumbled up in that great big head of his. I cupped his cheek with my left hand and kissed him ever so gently on the lips," Only if you let me do the same." I said.  
He embraced me and buried his nose in my sandy blonde hair. I kissed his cheek and allowed myself to drift off to sleep as we laid there with each other, finally peaceful.


	6. Snow Storm & A Visitor From Downstairs

I woke up on a chilly October morning. My eyes slowly opening to see that my window was open. I lifted the covers and stepped carefully out of bed, careful not to wake Sherlock.  
I went over to the window and gazed outside as the smallest, most delicate snowflakes began to fall. Inhaling the frosty air, I felt my son give me a gentle tap from the inside, telling me that he had woken up too. I placed a hand on my middle, peaceful and calm.  
I closed the window and pulled on my large cream wool jumper that Harry had sent me when she heard about the baby. She was so happy, and said that she would come as soon as she could.  
I softly traveled into the living room and turned on telly, switching to the weather channel. A chart with different colors to represent the incoming snow storm. I muted the weather woman and grabbed my laptop from the coffee table, opening it to see the video tapes we had watched almost two months ago.  
I closed out of the video files and put he laptop down, loosing interest in doing any medical research for work today.  
The thump of feet alerted me that Sherlock was awake. I went over to the stove and filled up the kettle as Sherlock entered the kitchen in a thin navy robe tied to his thin frame, ruffling his raven curls. "God I hate mornings." he said, plopping himself down on the couch and going limp, his left arm touching the floor. I giggled and lifted the whistling kettle from its place on the stove, pouring two cups of coffee. Black for me, and Sherlocks with two sugars.  
But the Braxton Hicks contractions were still coming.  
I braced myself against the kitchen counter as a Hicks contraction rippled through me. I bit my lip to keep from making any noise.  
But Sherlock wasn't stupid.  
He quickly came into the kitchen and rubbed small circles on my back as I stood there. After the contractions faded, he escorted me to the couch before going back to the kitchen to get the coffee.  
He sat down next to me and allowed me to spread out on the full length of the couch and rest my head on a pillow that he had set on his lap. I heard him chuckle softly," What?" I said, looking up at him," Your feet don't even reach the other end of the couch." he said, looking at my feet. I looked too, and saw that my feet, even after I pointed them, were a good five inches from the other end of the couch.  
I smiled back at him and took a sip of my coffee before closing my eyes and listening to the deep rumble of Sherlocks voice as he explained to me a new case that Lestrade needed help with.  
As Sherlock got to the part about how Lestrade completely missed the part about the strand of hair stuck in the bracelet on the victims hand (which was somehow a crucial piece of evidence) we heard the soft sounds of light footsteps coming up the stairs.  
"Evening, boys!" exclaimed, setting down a tray of scones and tea," How have you two been these past few months?" she asked excitedly, practically jumping with excitement. "Fine, thank you ." I replied, sitting up and leaning onto Sherlocks shoulder," You haven't updated me very much, boys!" she said, bringing over one of the desk chairs and taking a seat," Now! Boy of girl?"  
"Boy." I said," When is he due?" "Next month."  
"Do you have a name yet?"  
_Oh my god._  
I had completely forgotten about that part!  
"No, not yet." I replied, pulling a blanket over myself and resting my head on Sherlocks shoulder," You two had better get going with that!" she said, Standing up from her seat to come and give both Sherlock and I a peck on the cheek," I'm headed out. Stay warm!" she said and left the tray behind as she patterned down the stairs.  
"Sherlock," I said," We haven't thought of a name for him yet." I said," I- I thought you had one already." he replied," are you sure you want me in on this decision?" he asked," Of course! Why wouldn't I?" I replied.  
I snatched up my laptop and typed 'boy baby names' in the search bar.  
I clicked on the first link that I saw.  
" What about Oliver?" I suggested, pointing to the list of names," I like that one." Sherlock turned to me," Why don't we have a unique name for him, hmm?" Sherlock said, taking the laptop and closing it, setting it on the coffee table.  
" A family name, maybe?" I said. Sherlock nodded," Okay, so let's go back through the family tree of respected men." So, there's John." Sherlock said, taking out a pad of paper and drawing a scribble 'John' on top of the page.  
"My fathers name was George, um, my grandfathers name on my mothers side was James, and Timothy on my fathers side. I had a strange great grandfather that I met maybe twice named William, and my great grandfather on my fathers side was named Albert." I paused, trying to dig deeper," That's all I can remember." I said, looking down at the paper.  
"You can cross out Albert and Timothy now. Those names sound too... Old." I said, taking a pen and crossing out the names in red ink," I'm not naming him after my father, so that is out." I put a red line through my fathers name," James is fine, I guess..." I said, "You have forgotten about one, John." Sherlock said, pointing to my great grandfather on my mothers side," Oh! William..." I thought about that for a moment, running it through my head over and over," William." I whispered.  
A soft tap from my son made my decision final.  
" William it is, then." I said, resting a hand on my stomach.  
Sherlock helped me up from the couch and I headed towards the bedroom, when a pain wave hit me.  
My legs buckled underneath me and the air was knocked from my lungs. I hit the floor knees first, then my arms came out a little too late to stop me from falling to the side," John?!" Sherlock called from the living room," Ow... Sh-Sherlock!" I cried out, the pain causing my back muscles to spasm. Sherlock came running in from the next room, Kneeling down next to me," That one was bad." he said. I could only lay there punching the floor until it passed.  
Then I felt something trickle down my legs.  
"Oh my god." Sherlock said," Sherlock," I said," He's coming."  
Sherlock looked outside," WIlliam may be coming, but there's no way that an ambulance is."  
I looked outside to see a blanket of white covering everything, and the snow had gotten heavier.  
We are trapped.  
And the baby is coming.


	7. The Grand Finale

_**PLEASE READ!**_

_I went back to the previous chapter and edited some things. I changed the babys' name. I have decided to change it to __**William**__. _

_This chapter will also have a little of Sherlocks POV on the delivery._

_Thank you for getting this far!_

_**Are you all ready?**__ :)_

Sherlock managed to help me to the couch in the middle of a contraction. "I'm going to go call an ambulance, okay?" Sherlock said, rushing to the phone to dial that contraction passed, there was a moment of peace in the flat. I took deep breaths and placed my hands on my bulging belly. "What do you MEAN there are no ambulances available?!" Sherlock screeched from the kitchen," Damn it!" Sherlock screamed, hanging up the phone. I saw him snatch Bens number off of the fridge and pound his thumb to every button on the phone until he put it to his ear," Ben!" he said," John has gone into labor, we need you to come as soon as possible!" his face went pale," What?" he said.

Sherlock then calmly came over to where I was and put the phone on speaker," John, are you there?" Ben's' voice said," Yeah." I said," How are you doing there John?" "The contractions are hitting hard and fast, they're about seven minutes apart so far." I gasped," Ugh- Make that six and a half." I said through gritted teeth," It sounds like its going to be a fast process, John. You will be in at least three hours of labor, and the baby will come soon after that." Ben said," I'll try my best to get there, but you guys might need other help. Is there anyone in your building?" "No." Sherlock said," Is there anyone you could call that could come to you quickly?" "No..." Sherlock said, devastated. His hands ran through his raven curls in deep thought. "I'll make haste, I should be there within a three hour time frame. Call if anything changes." Thanks, Ben." Sherlock said, hanging up the phone.  
"Sherlock," I said. He looked at me for the first time with true fear, and it scared the shit out of me," We will be able to do this!" I said, taking his right hand in both of mine," Ben should be here when the baby is going to be actually coming, but for now, it's just-" I was cut off by another contraction stabbing me in the back. I was able to grit my teeth and go through it with barely a sound. I held my breath and clamped down on Sherlocks hand, which was bruised after the contraction passed.  
"Oh, John." Sherlock said as my head hit the couch after the contraction. A single tear made its way to my cheek, but I brushed it away before Sherlock could notice.  
Sherlock gently lifted my head and sat behind me, supporting my back and giving me a gentle kiss on my forehead. He nabbed the remote to telly and turned it on to one of my favorite shows.  
Doctor Who.  
It was the first episode of season two. I sat with Sherlock and gave my focus to the Doctor and his companion, Rose. Sherlock held me tight and sat next to me as we got through the first thirty minutes of labor.  
After 45 minutes, the pain doubled in intensity," Oh god!" I screamed, doubling over and clutching my belly. Sherlock turned off Telly and helped me stand up.  
Which was a really bad idea.  
"John?! John, can you hear me?" I opened my eyes," Wh- what?" I said. Then at noticed that I was looking at him from the floor. I could feel the carpet on my back and the growing pain in my head. I slowly say up, breathing steadily to keep from fainting again.  
Sherlock helped me walk around as the contractions hit, supporting me as my knees threatened to give out and rubbing small circles on my back to relieve the pressure.  
Then the second hour hit.  
I could no longer hold back my screams. The pain was becoming too intense for me to handle.  
Let me explain to you what exactly is happening.  
Since I don't have the woman parts required for delivery ( I have a uterus, but there is no exit for William to come out of) my skin is splitting to form a kind of 'tunnel' for him to pass through. This 'tunnel' is forming where the female vagina would be, and will react to the labor the same.

My legs completely gave out and I collapsed to the floor. My face was as pale as a sheet and I felt as if my body was slowly being torn in half. I couldn't even scream. The pain was so intense that I could only lay there gasping for air as my body prepared itself to deliver my baby.  
Sherlock scooped me up into his arms and held me close to him. He hummed softly and walked around with me cradled in his embrace. I put my head against his chest and listened to the deep rumbling of his voice. As the next contraction hit, I dug my fingers into his neck and clung as tight as I could to him. He never once protested.  
After I asked to be put down, he played a recording of one of my lullabies that he composed and placed my feet on top of his, and wrapped his arms around my waist, supporting me so that I wouldn't fall, but also giving me the freedom and feeling of walking around.  
"Hey, John?" Sherlock whispered after a nasty contraction hit at 2 1/2 hours," I know that you might not like this, but I need to see how far along you are, okay?" I nodded and allowed him to walk us to the bedroom and place me ever so gently on the helped me remove my trousers and pants, and used a small blanket to cover the top of my legs to give me some dignity. He Then took a look at the situation.

Sherlock looked up after a moment," I'm going to call Ben, he could walk us through this." he said, taking out his phone. "Damn it!" Sherlock shouted, throwing his phone at the wall," No battery." He said, running his hand through his hair," And your phone doesn't have service," Sherlock said," I tried calling ." Sherlock said, pacing," John, I'm going to have to deliver him." Sherlock said, coming over to me and taking my hand.  
I nodded and grit my teeth through another contraction. "Just remember that I need you, okay?" I said, taking Sherlocks hand. He gave my hand a gentle kiss, "Always." he said.  
Sherlock played one of his lullabies over a recording and brought me a cool washcloth to put on my forehead.  
Then there came a large popping sound, and the lights went out.  
"Sherlock?" I called. He came back into the bedroom with three lit candles," And now, we have no power." he said, placing the candles around the bed," Let's walk around the flat, hm? Get your legs moving." Sherlock said, helping me up and walking around like he had been earlier, my feet on his and we walked around like that until the second hour hit.  
"Ow, Sh-Sherlock!" I stuttered as the force of the contraction caused me to fall, landing on my side and hitting my shoulder pretty hard. Sherlock scooped me up in his two strong arms and carried me steadily back to the bedroom and laid me on the bed. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and couldn't believe how I looked. I was a ghost of myself. A shell. My face was as pale as a sheet and my eyes showed my exhaustion, bags hanging under them.  
Sherlock came behind me and set pillows behind my head and under my back, giving me much more comfort, and it put me in the right position for delivery.  
Sherlock had found an extra pair of latex gloves in the first-aid kit and put them on. He also got plenty of towels and was heating some water on the stove.  
He covered my legs from my waist to just below my knees with a soft towel, shielding me from what was going on down there.  
"SHERLOCK!" I screamed as I felt William shift and move inside of me," It's time to push, John." Sherlock said calmly, looking up at me reassuringly. I felt him press his fingers into the tunnel as I went into the second stage of delivery. "I can see the very top of his head, John!" Sherlock exclaimed after what seemed hours, but was really only 30 minutes," Is he almost here?" I asked feebly, my entire body shaking and covered in a cold sweat," Not quite, but he's making good progress. You are doing so well, John!" he said excitedly, pressing gently on my belly to help the process pick up its pace.  
At the three hour mark, I was barely pulling through each contraction, my energy constantly draining like water in a bathtub. Sherlock was constantly encouraging me through pushing, but it's all jumbled now. My senses were blurry and dull, my eyes making everything hazy and my ears only managing to take in murmurs of my surroundings.  
But Sherlock knows how to get to people.  
"John!" he said, shaking my leg. My head shot up, and I somehow managed to focus on the task at hand, a new energy running through me.

* * *

**SHERLOCK**

John looked so pale, it scared me. He was struggling to make it through every contraction, and I don't even think he's realized that he's coughed up blood three times already.  
When people say that you can never read enough books and be prepared for the real thing, they mean it.  
I prepared myself for what was going to happen, and what John was going through, but to be honest, I was terrified.  
I'm actually beginning to fear for his life.

* * *

**JOHN**

"Come on, John! One more push and we'll have his head!" Sherlock said excitedly, encouraging me to keep going. I let out a strangled cry as Williams head forced its way out of my body and into the world.  
Sherlock quickly took a thoroughly sanitized turkey baster to clear the mucus out of his mouth and nose, allowing him to breathe.  
I looked at Sherlock with my eyes half open, my breathing coming in shallow, uneven breaths. I have to say that Sherlock looked concerned from my end of the bed, and continued to ask me how I was doing, and how I was feeling.

He pressed a little bit harder as I pushed through the next 15 minutes, forcing myself to continue.

"He's _so_ close, John!" Sherlock encouraged," Just a few more and he'll be here!" I nodded and, for what seemed to be the millionth time, pushed through another bone-rattling contraction. Williams shoulders were stretching me as he slowly left me, entering the world. "I can't do this!" I gasped, my body going limp after a contraction, and my breathing becoming labored," Just one more, John! One more and this will all be over!" Sherlock said, his voice desperate and urging.

I gave one last, feeble push, feeling the last of my energy flood my body as my son entered the world. I heard him take his first breath, crying out for air as he left my safety.

I could barely see Sherlock bundle up William into a towel and come over to my head," Look at the beautiful being you created!" Sherlock said, showing me Williams face and hands. "He's perfect." I said.

And my exhaustion finally took over, pulling me into unconsciousness.

* * *

**SHERLOCK**

"He's perfect..." John whispered, briefly brushing his pointer finger along Williams forehead, before closing his eyes.

"John?" I said, my heart racing," John, please open your eyes." I begged, shaking his arm.

He didn't even flinch.

I set William down in a basket that I had prepared earlier with a heating pack and many towels to keep the newborn nice and warm. I rushed back over to John, checking his pulse and trying to get him to open his eyes. "John, don't you _dare_ leave me!" I said. '_His pulse is slowing down.'_ I thought to myself, forcing myself to think. "Okay, okay..." I said, getting myself together.

At that moment, I honestly thought there was a god up there somewhere.

"John? Sherlock?" came a voice from downstairs," Ben!" I shouted," We're up here! Hurry!" I took Johns arm and shook it," Please, John!" I begged, tears streaming down my face. " Sherlock! What happ-" He stopped cold when he saw the baby in the basket. Then he turned and looked at John. He rushed over to the side of the bed and put his bag on the ground," How long has he been like this?" he asked cooly, taking Johns pulse and checking his temperature," Two minutes." I replied, backing away to give Ben space," Sherlock, I need you to go outside and wave in the paramedics." Ben said, taking the covers off of John and taking the washcloth and the cup of cold water and dabbing Johns forehead, trying to cool him down.

I raced down the stairs, leaping from landing to landing, not even bothering with the stairs, and yanking the door open," In here!" I shouted, taking off my black jacket and waving it in the air. The paramedics rushed over as fast as they could, forcing their way through the snow while carrying equipment. I held the door open for them and followed the up the stairs and into Johns bedroom.

One of them came over to me, holding William," Sir, I need you to step into the other room." he said, handing William to me. I took him in my arms, cradling him as he wailed," But John, he needs me!" I choked," We will take care of him, but we need you to step into the other room." he assured me," No!" I screamed, and I felt a firm and familiar pair of hands put on my shoulder, leading me into the sitting room.

It was Lestrade.

He didn't say a word. He simply put the kettle on and made me a cup of tea. I felt pathetic. Useless. All that I could do while the medics were in the bedroom taking care of John was sit in my chair and hold onto William as I cried, my brain creating haunting fantasies as I sat there, pondering the fact that John might die today. Lestrade brought over my cup of tea and put a comforting hand on my shoulder, making sure that I knew that he was there, and that if I needed to talk, I could.

The medics and Ben emerged from the bedroom with John on a stretcher, oxygen mask and all. He had a blanket draped over him to protect him from the snow storm outside, and I stood up to follow them, William sleeping in my arms. Lestrade came over and handed me a clean shirt. "You'll need it." he said, pointing to my chest, I looked down and saw that I had Johns blood and fluids covering my chest. I took the shirt and nodded at him. "Oh, Come'ere." he said, and he took both William and i into a large hug, squeezing just a little bit, and letting me follow the medics down the stairs.

* * *

**There WILL BE MORE COMING** **after this chapter! **

**Please tell me what you thought, and if you have any suggestions in anything that you think could/should be in the next chapter!**

**Your reviews are what keep me going, so keep 'em coming!**

**-PerfectMoments**


End file.
